Page 68 - The World's Best Boyfriend

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Traditionally, Freshers’ Day at Delhi Technological University was more of an

awkward ice-breaker between overenthusiastic senior boys and naive junior
girls.
‘Fuck this, this isn’t the Freshers’ our college is known for,’ said Sanchit,
horrified.

‘And what is it known for?’ asked Dhruv, his eyes fixed on Aranya.
‘Freshers’ Day is supposed to be a comedy of errors, not this. It’s when

everything is fuck-all. The juniors come together and prepare horribly
synchronized dance routines, someone sings woefully out of tune, an unfunny fat
person mimics professors, a boy in a gunjee does a solo dance performance
ripped off from a Step Up movie without the dexterity or the awesomeness, etc.

A few girls would vomit all over themselves, a junior would be bashed up by
seniors, an odd senior would get a lucky blowjob behind the flex posters, and a

handful of students would be expelled,’ said an exasperated Sanchit. ‘They are
breaking the tradition, damn it!’
At the helm of operations of this year’s party was that psychotic bitch,
Aranya. She had cruised her way into the cultural fest organizing team, the

IEEE, the debating team, and had turned out to be a professional ass-licker.
Aranya was running the machinery with military-like discipline.

‘This is so fucking corporate!’ complained Sanchit. They were sitting outside
the single-storey structure where the first-year students were organizing the
Freshers’ Day with a seriousness you associate with finding a cure for cancer.

Things were clearly tense.
‘The girls had to go through rigorous auditions before they could make it to
the dance routine. The group has only five girls now. Imagine! Last year there

were fifteen, most of them with big titties,’ continued Sanchit.
‘Is there any time you don’t objectify women?’
‘I objectify men, too. Don’t think I have not noticed your bulge.’

‘You’re fucking incorrigible.’
‘Don’t you want to say something? This is our heritage. Fucked-up Freshers’
parties is our forte! Our college’s rich history is embellished with screwed-up

dance routines, lights falling on people’s heads, girls tripping over heels, comics